


Lady and the Lush

by DasewigGewitter



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Deception, Drunkenness, F/M, New Year's Eve, Parties, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28691955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DasewigGewitter/pseuds/DasewigGewitter
Summary: AU set approximately 5 years after the first movie. Loki and a linguistic genius from Asgard, Lilith, have been helping the Avengers to solve a puzzle on Midgard for the past year. A professional partnership that has been developing into something more as time has gone by. It's now New Year's Eve, and Loki's taking the situation into his own hands to break the ice.





	Lady and the Lush

**Author's Note:**

> A point of clarification on the story framework and format: The primary storyteller (this tends to be the character who narrates a majority of the story) is written in 1st Person perspective. All other characters acting as storytellers are written in 3rd Person. It's a format that I'm borrowing from the fantasy author Juliet McKenna. She used it in her "Tales of Einarinn" series. This story framework is not intended to be classified as an 'x Reader'/'Reader-insert' story.

“Gods I’m bored. Victor- you have no idea how bored I am right now.”

I stood at the edge of the common room of the Tower penthouse, stiffly clutching a highball glass containing a cocktail I really hadn’t wanted. After the mishap at Christmas, I’d declared alcohol of any kind off-limits. But try telling that to Stark…he had handed me this without giving me time to protest. Which was when I made straight for this corner to wait out the rest of the party.

My brother, Victor, had come over to check on me; from his pained expression, I could tell it was a decision he was now regretting. Not that I cared. It was _his_ fault I was even here. Wasting time when I could be doing something more productive with my evening. A point I voiced again in hopes that he would just give up.

“Tell me again _why_ we had to be here?”

“It’s how the mortals celebrate the arrival of the New Year, Lilith. No different than the feasts we throw on Asgard.”

“Like I enjoyed those any better,” I muttered irritably against the rim of my glass.

Victor didn’t comment, leaving me to simmer in silent annoyance. I was no good at parties. Never knew what to say or how to laugh at the witty banter of people around me. By contrast, Victor took to social functions like it was second nature to him. Gods knew why, but he actually _enjoyed_ it. I’d watched him run a circuit of the room, wishing that I didn’t dread the very thought of having to join him out there.

_But I do._

People and crowds always gave me anxiety. I was much better suited to studying the pages of books- deciphering the meaning of ancient texts and translating them into something others could use. Or testing out new incantations discovered in those writings. That’s what I’d done on Asgard for most of my life. I’d worked in the deep archives, rescuing knowledge of eons gone by before it was lost. Loved every minute of it.

Until last year.

One day, the Allfather had me summoned to the great hall. I’d been in the middle of a particularly interesting discovery, but one doesn’t ignore a summons from the King of Asgard. He told me that I was going to Midgard because Victor said he needed my help. No less than a week later, I had found myself thrust into the very alien world belonging to the Avengers. Trying to make sense of the mortals’ strange habits- not to mention their wretched abuse of language- while helping them deal with an adversary threatening the planet.

Granted, most of that time I’d spent doing the same thing I’d done on Asgard. The Avengers had uncovered mysterious messages at the scene of several devastating attacks on the planet. And when they’d raided what might have been a base of operations, they discovered more of the same. Notebooks containing passages written in a language no scholar of this realm could translate.

The language puzzle I’d been eager to solve; finding out that I would have to work with a partner had dampened my enthusiasm at the outset. As it turned out, I wasn’t the _only_ linguist the mortals had set to the task.

_Never thought I’d be working alongside_ him _again._

The ‘him’ in question was Loki Laufeyson. Perhaps the most notorious god in Asgard. After what he’d tried to do in pursuing the Tesseract, that _anyone_ from either realm would allow him back on Midgard came as quite the shock. Brilliant mind aside, I would have thought the Allfather- and the mortals- would prefer to have left him where he was. Well supervised on Asgard.

_Emphasis on the_ supervised _part._

“Attending functions like this is good for you,” Victor insisted, breaking into my thoughts. “Think of it as a chance to practice. After all, you’ll need to become more adept at socializing if you’re going to take our mother’s place one day in Odin’s council.”

With a shrug, I dropped my gaze to avoid meeting his eyes. This was a discussion that Victor brought up no less than once a month; our mother had broached it even more often before I left home. I was in no mood to have it now. And so while my brother grumbled about how I inherited all of my stubbornness from our father, I mentally pulled up the most recent passage of text I’d been deciphering. Piecing what words I already knew against the ones I didn’t.

“Lilith, are you paying attention to me?”

“I quite rather prefer to ignore you.” Again with the muttering. I let Victor keep on with it until he lost steam. “Feel better?”

“No. Lilith, sometimes you drive me crazy.”

“Likewise, Brother. Besides, why is it so damned important that _I_ be the one to take mother’s place? _You’re_ just as qualified to do it.”

“Different skill sets. And I wish you’d stop trying to compare yourself against me.”

“Then quit trying to make me something I’m not.”

Victor had nothing to say to counter that point. One of the benefits of having to work with Loki, actually. I’d overheard plenty of arguments between the God of Mischief and _his_ brother over the past year. This happened to be one that he and I had in common. I hadn’t taken the opportunity to try out Loki’s defense yet, but it worked as I’d expected it would. My brother must have recognized the tactic, and shot me a dark look.

“I can guess where you drew inspiration for that gem,” he complained. “Rather from _whom_.”

“Feel free to tell the Allfather that you’ve no more need of my help on Midgard. If I go back, you won’t have to deal with his ‘meddling influence’ as you call it.”

“You know I can’t do that, Lilith. We need you here.”

“And that means I spend time with Laufeyson. So deal with it.” Half under my breath, I added, “Hel knows _I_ have.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

_It means a lot of things, Brother, but you won’t like hearing most of them._

After an initially rocky start- and ‘rocky’ was a generous way of putting it- the God of Mischief and I had learned how to get on with one another. I didn’t quite _trust_ him, but I could respect the man’s intellect and how he approached a problem like the one we’d been given. How he’d approached the Tesseract matter…well, on _that_ point we still had our differences of opinion.

_At least now it’s more of a debate than a full-on argument._

We’d had many of both over the past year. I’d even managed to get Loki to agree that I won them on occasion, although not without difficulty. He really hated not being right about something. Not that I could blame him; I wasn’t much of a graceful loser, either.

Oddly enough, the almost constant battle of wills served as sort of a neutral ground rather than an antagonistic one. I approached them the same way I approached a page of text I didn’t understand, and didn’t frame my questions based on any pre-set conclusions. By doing so, I found that I learned far more about the God of Mischief than I’d expected to. Far more than I suspected most Asgardians had _ever_ tried to learn about him.

And while I was still wary of the god and what his ultimate aspirations may be…I had by degrees come to understand the man beneath them.

_Perhaps more than just understand. But that’s_ definitely _not something to tell Victor. He’ll give me absolute Hel over it._

I didn’t need a lecture from my brother about why having _those_ kinds of thoughts about Loki were futile, if not dangerous; I got enough of those from myself. Which was why I deflected his question with an answer that wouldn’t invite any further inquiry.

“Just that you know as well as I do that he’s not exactly the sort meant for teamwork.”

Victor sighed.

“I know. And I’m sorry you’ve had to put up with Laufeyson this whole year. Really, I am.”

_I’m not._

“If there’d been any other way…”

“Victor, let it go. I’m not asking for an apology.” I waved him off with my drink. “Go enjoy Stark’s party. At least _someone_ should.”

He cast a look around the room and spied Nat talking with Hawk and Cap. She laughed over something one of them said, shaking her head. I couldn’t help noticing the barely concealed envy that furrowed Victor’s brow as he watched them. And then he turned back.

“I’d feel better if you came along.”

“I’ll be fine from where I am. A little boredom won’t kill me.”

“Lilith…”

“ _Go_.”

With one last frown, he capitulated.

“All right. But I’ll be back in a little while to check up on you. Try to have a good time, Sister. For me.”

“I’ll do my best.”

* * *

Tony leaned over the bar to snag another bottle of scotch from his extensive inventory of liquor. Even with the precaution of ordering three times his usual supply the guests had already put a sizeable dent in what he had on hand. Not that he worried he’d _run out_. Such a thing to happen in the Tower was unthinkable.

_But I may have to get a bit_ creative _in my offerings as the night wears on._

In the meantime, he had plenty enough to pour another round for the group idling around the bar. On his left, Bruce and Pepper; on his right, Thor and Loki. Tony raised his glass and asked the group, “Shall we toast to the new year?”

Bruce checked his watch and pointed out, “It may be a bit early- still an hour left in this one.”

“What about to the successes we’ve had this year,” Thor suggested.

“I like the way you think,” he said with a salute. “That kind of toast will require more than just one drink to do it proper justice.”

“Now Tony…”

“Relax, Doll. I promised I’d be on my best behavior tonight.”

Tony was quick to offer his assurances, not wanting to give her any reason to doubt he meant it. Because he _did_. It was just that things had a way of getting out of hand before he realized it. He hoped everyone else would do him a favor by not pointing that out to her. Particularly Loki. But his luck held, and the god kept whatever he thought to himself.

“Speaking of success,” Bruce commented after they’d shared a drink. “How goes it with deciphering those notebooks? Any luck with figuring out who might be behind the attacks yet?”

“Not yet,” Loki replied. “Lilith and I are still deciphering some of the more obscure passages that might be of more help identifying a source.”

“I still can’t believe that it wasn’t a cipher of one of our languages.”

Tony wasn’t surprised. And he doubted that Loki was, either. Before they’d appealed to Asgard for help, linguists had spent nearly six months trying to crack the letters as some form of complex code with no success. Hell, they’d even compared it against invented languages from fantasy and science fiction. All with no success. So when the two gods had determined that the language was from an alien race, Tony was far more interested to know how something like that had gotten on Earth in the first place.

Loki and Lilith had only just discovered _which_ alien language last month. Some dialect of a race that meant nothing to Tony or anyone else in the room other than knowing it was a sign of progress. But the news had been of keen interest to them, talking of little else for _weeks_ as they picked through the notebooks. From what he gathered, neither of them were fluent in it. Hence the delay in the translation.

Slow going. Lots of long hours.

_And yet I don’t hear either one complaining about it._

They had complained in the beginning. Vehemently. For the first month or so, Tony thought the two might kill each other before solving the puzzle. The few times he’d gone into the conference room to check on their progress, they were glaring at one another like wet cats. Arguing over who knew what. Tony didn’t hang around to get in the middle of it and let Thor deal with them.

Whether it was under threat or a voluntary decision, the pair eventually worked out their differences. Thor was satisfied with the result, but Tony wasn’t sure if _Victor_ approved of the change in dynamic. He might have preferred the two to be at one another’s throats. More than once, Tony caught the god regarding Loki with a disapproving scowl when his back was turned. Especially when the Trickster was talking with Lilith.

_The joys that come with being an older brother._

Tony did not envy the man _that_ particular worry. He preferred to be a spectator…or even better, a meddling nuisance. If he thought for a moment that something other than professional might be developing between those two, Tony might be tempted to become the latter. If only to annoy Reindeer Games. But as far as he could tell, Victor was worrying over nothing.

_Pity._

“Is she even at the party,” he heard Pepper ask. “I haven’t seen her all night.”

“I think Victor locked the conference room,” Bruce said while taking another sip from his glass. “But that doesn’t mean he got her to come.”

“Oh she’s here,” Victor assured them as he, Nat and Hawk joined the group. “And you’d think I’d brought her to her own execution by the way she’s complaining about it.”

Tony caught Nat’s gaze and she rolled her eyes. They must have already heard this speech before coming over here. Just as they’d all heard it many times over during the course of the year. It wasn’t that the siblings didn’t get on with one another, but their personalities were night and day in some ways. Events like this one brought out those differences. Victor was highly social; Lilith was not. The classic introvert. So why her brother kept trying so hard to fight it baffled everyone in the Tower.

“I _tried_ to get her to have a good time, but Lilith wouldn’t budge. Just keeps to herself, lurking by the terrace and counting the minutes until the party is over.”

“Well, that’s no good,” Pepper commented with a shake of her head. “You think if Nat and I go over there-”

“Um, Victor?” Hawk interjected, his eyes focused on a point on the far side of the room.

“What?”

“You said Lilith was by the terrace?”

“Yeah, why?”

“She’s not there anymore.”

The god spun around and looked in the same general direction, as did everyone else. Tony agreed with Hawk’s assessment; Lilith wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Not hovering at the edge of the room and not anywhere among the groups of other guests.

“Dammit,” Victor swore. “I’ll bet she slipped away the second my back was turned. She _promised_ that she’d come to this.”

“Well, technically, she did,” Nat stated with a shrug. “Did you get her to promise that she’d stay for the whole thing?”

“No. I didn’t think to ask for _that_.”

“Should have. You gave her one tempting loop hole.”

She had a point. Tony’s only surprise was that Loki wasn’t the one making it instead. Navigating the ins and outs of bending the truth and exploiting its technicalities were his forte, although Nat was no novice herself. He turned to the Trickster to find out why he was sitting this one out. Loki was gone. Tony couldn’t even say _when_ he might have disappeared. But gone he was.

_Well, I guess_ that’d _be why._

“What’s the matter, Tony?”

“It would seem Lilith’s not the _only_ one who’s decided to ditch the party.”

* * *

Loki had a good idea where he might find Lilith. The others would likely expect her to return to her suite; she would know better. And as Victor locked the conference room, the terrace would be the only logical choice. A conclusion that he had no desire to share with anyone else. Nor did he want any of them tagging along when he confirmed his theory.

_Fortunate for me, then, that Odin lifted his restrictions about using teleportation during my last quarterly check in with Asgard._

While everyone’s attention had been diverted by the debate over Lilith, Loki casually helped himself to a few things from behind the bar and disappeared. A few seconds later, he reappeared on what seemed to be a deserted terrace. None of the other guests were willing to brave the cold. Not yet, anyway. Closer to midnight, they _might_ trickle out here to watch the celebration on the streets below. For now, it was an empty stage awaiting an audience.

Empty except for a lone figure leaning against the balustrade. Loki almost didn’t see her. She had kept herself tucked in a blind spot, well away from the penthouse’s glass windows. A clear indication that Lilith didn’t want company. He decided to approach, anyway. Though his footfalls on the flagstones alerted her that she was no longer alone, Lilith didn’t look away from the city skyline. Not even when he joined her at the railing.

“When you said ‘a little while’, I thought I’d have a good half hour at least,” she lamented irritably from behind the curtain of her hair. “Sometimes, Victor, I swear you’re worse than-” Lilith stopped mid-sentence, having finally realized that he wasn’t her brother as she had assumed. 

Loki arched an eyebrow in bemused curiosity and prodded, “Worse than…?”

“Sorry, thought you were- what exactly are _you_ doing out here, anyway?”

“I might ask you the same, my Lady.”

“I’ve told you that it’s not necessary to call me that.”

Necessary? No. But Loki liked watching her reaction whenever he said it. Like now, when her cheeks turned a most attractive shade of pink. Lilith slid her gaze away and combed a hand through her hair, self-consciously pulling it forward in an effort to hide it from him. She probably thought he’d never noticed because he’d never said anything. Tempting to mention it now to see what she would do.

_Be careful,_ he reminded himself. _She’s already out of humor from having been dragged to this party. Push her too far and this will end in an argument. That’s not why you came out here._ No, it wasn’t. Loki phrased his reply with the intent to keep their conversation light-hearted.

“And I’ve told you that years of custom form a habit that isn’t undone in a matter of months.”

Lilith took the bait, glancing at him over her shoulder with a half-smirk as she countered, “Hmmm…is that so? Then what about the others? With them it’s always ‘Ms. Romanoff’ or ‘Ms. Potts’. When you’re feeling _polite_ , anyway.”

“I could find something else,” he teased provocatively, unable to help himself. “But I can’t guarantee you’d like the alternatives any better.”

The words were said in jest, but they were still true. Loki _did_ have alternatives in mind. Only he hadn’t dared say them for fear that the _other_ half of that statement was also true- that Lilith wouldn’t want him using _those_ kinds of words when speaking about her. Over the last month, though, he’d come to the decision it was time to find out one way or another. _That’s_ why he’d come out in search of her tonight. To discover the truth.

…by means of the _tiniest_ of white lies.

“To save ourselves the experience of finding out, perhaps I make a peace offering.”

“What _sort_ of peace offering?”

He produced two snifters in one hand and set them on the level stone of the terrace balustrade. With the other hand, he withdrew a bottle of deep, raven-colored glass. It wasn’t until she saw the distinct amber hue of the liquid he poured into the glasses that Lilith’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh no. Don’t tell me that’s-”

“Asgardian brandy? Of course it is.”

“And _that’s_ your idea of a ‘peace offering’? You remember what happened _last_ time, don’t you?”

Loki certainly did. Stark had bribed Thor into procuring a few bottles of the prized apple brandy for his collection. He’d done so with the intent of surprising the team at his now infamous Christmas party. Infamous on account of the ‘surprise’ aspect. He’d only meant to catch the rest of the mortals unaware by not telling them what they were drinking. Who could have guessed that _Lilith_ had never tasted Asgardian brandy before? Loki and the others had recognized it for what it was right away, and thought she had, too.

They’d thought wrong.

By the time she’d consumed her entire glass- and most of a second- the potent liquor had taken its toll. Loki had been the first to notice something was amiss, taken aback to see the naturally introverted woman striking up conversations with anyone who crossed her path. Saying aloud all the thoughts she would normally have kept bottled up. It had been…very enlightening.

Lilith had refused to talk to Stark for _days_ afterward. Thor, too. Even her brother got the cold shoulder for not having warned her what Stark planned. And if she’d been able to recall _half_ of what she’d said to _Loki_ that night, she wouldn’t be talking to him _right now_. Probably never would have come to Stark’s New Years’ party at all.

“It’s not as though you’re likely to down two tumblers of it this time.”

“No, but…”

He took one of the snifters for himself and held the second out to her. Lilith accepted it from him warily, but she made no move to take a drink and merely laced her fingers around the glass. On his part, Loki indulged in a generous swallow. Savoring the quality of what must have been one of Asgard’s finest vintages; even the best Midgard had to offer couldn’t compare to it.

Lilith took a _very_ cautious sip of hers.

“So you never answered my question,” he reminded her. “Why were you out here?”

Rather than answer, she took another drink. Not quite as cautious this time. For a minute or two, Lilith stared down at her hands, expression landing somewhere between dismay and resignation. Loki wondered if he hadn’t made a mistake in pushing the subject.

“I hate going to things like this,” she admitted at last.

“Then why go?”

She shrugged artlessly by way of reply and raised the glass to her lips. Loki suspected he knew why. Easier to be miserable for a few hours than to spend ten times that in listening to people tell her why she was wrong not to go. He’d heard the same speeches. Just about different things.

_They’re never content to leave someone as they are._

“You never answered my question, either,” Lilith spoke up. “What brought _you_ to the terrace?”

_You._

Not the right time to tell her that, and so he told a half-truth instead, remarking idly, “Your absence has been noted by Stark and the others- including your brother.”

“Well, I highly doubt that Victor would have asked you to come out here and fetch me.”

Far from it. Loki was well aware that Lilith’s brother resented his presence in the Tower on the whole. He was certain that he’d argued in favor of sending him back to Asgard when Lilith arrived. Outvoted on that campaign, Victor made it abundantly clear that he especially loathed any time Loki spent with Lilith. He tolerated the hours they worked together deciphering the letters; anything outside of that was another matter. The man had gone so far as to explicitly _order_ Loki to keep his distance.

_As if I would ever obey._

Quite the opposite. He never accepted obstacles that got in the way of what he wanted before; he had no intentions of doing so now. Victor was just going to have to come to terms with the reality that Loki wanted Lilith. If the lady didn’t have any objections, her brother would just have to master his. And so yes, he enjoyed flaunting his willful disobedience in the man’s face whenever he could. Knowing Victor could do nothing to stop him without risking Lilith would find out. 

“He did not.” Loki finished the brandy in his glass and poured a second. “I suspect at this very moment, he is standing outside your bedroom door giving you a lecture.”

Lilith laughed and said drily, “I’ll be sure to pretend that I heard every word when he brings it up at breakfast.”

“That takes care of tomorrow, leaving only the question of what to do for the rest of the evening.” He noted that she’d come out here in little more than a cable-knit sweater. Not really dressed to spend hours standing in the winter cold. “Unless you were thinking to go back inside.”

“Not really.”

Exactly the answer he was hoping to hear. Loki regarded her with a slightly mischievous grin.

“I suppose we’ll have to amuse ourselves out here, then.”

* * *

_And_ this _is what comes of consuming nearly a full bottle of Asgardian brandy single-handedly_ , I mused with mild annoyance. Having learned my lesson from Christmas, I’d had the good sense not to overdo it tonight. _Unlike someone_ else _._

After polishing off his second glass, Loki had confiscated what remained of mine under the premise that he was only being ‘helpful’. Whatever that meant. At first, he’d _seemed_ to be holding the liquor well enough. But by the time the bottle came to be nearly empty, that illusion had crumbled. And that’s how we got to this point. With everyone else gone to bed, I was left to deal with a very, _very_ drunk Loki who seemed to have lost his common sense alongside his sobriety.

_Could have used Thor’s help right about now in getting him back to his room before he passes out._ But no one had ventured onto the terrace at all tonight, least of all Thor. _Or Victor, for that matter._

The evening had taken a surprising and- drunken antics notwithstanding- not altogether unpleasant turn of events. While I hadn’t enjoyed the party, I hadn’t looked forward to spending the whole night alone, either. I’d gone out onto the terrace for a short break, intending to brave my social obligations again after a half hour or so. And then Loki had come out to join me, providing an unexpected alternative. Pepper or Nat would have made more sense, but _him?_

 _Definitely hadn’t expected him to_ stay _._

It had been _his_ idea, though, to cast a type of fire spell to give off enough heat to make staying on the terrace more comfortable. For me, anyway. He would have been fine without it, and so I’d had to wonder what he was up to. Three hours later, I could only conclude that for once Loki didn’t have an agenda other than to enjoy himself. The slight wobble of his hand on the bottle of brandy suggested he’d succeeded in that aim a little too well. I tried to tug it gently from his fingers.

“That’s it- I’m cutting you off.”

Despite his state of inebriation, Loki still managed to prevent me from getting it away from him. I debated a second try, sure that the _last_ thing he needed was another drink. Even if he didn’t end up making himself ill, he was already looking at one Hel of a hangover tomorrow morning. No need to make it worse. But rather than wrestle the bottle out of his grasp, I tried using words instead.

“Come on, Loki. The Tower only needs one lush and Stark’s already claimed the title. Hand that over.”

We were sitting in two chairs we’d commandeered along with one of the small tables from the patio area. It hadn’t been easy, but we’d managed to set them up in the concealed niche on the far side of the terrace. A place we wouldn’t be bothered by anyone from inside. Loki leaned back in his chair, toying with the bottle. He favored me with a wicked smile and mischievous arch of his eyebrow.

“Convince me.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I said _convince_ me. I’m inclined to finish what’s left, but I’m curious to see how you might persuade me otherwise, my Lady.”

Oh that just wasn’t fair _at all_. I was glad that my cheeks were already slightly red from the chilly night air, saving me the embarrassment of Loki seeing me blush. Doubly glad that he would be unlikely to remember even if he _did_ notice.

_I hope_.

I cursed myself for blushing, none-the-less. But I couldn’t help it.

My Lady. Loki was right- the phrase was a common one on Asgard. An ordinary greeting that I’d heard from gods and goddesses- Hel, even mortals- and hadn’t batted an eyelash. But when it was _Loki_ …it wasn’t so much the words he’d said, but _how_ he’d said them that made the difference. As if they were more than an empty ritual. That he might actually _mean_ them.

_Get a grip, Lilith. You’re reading more into it because you_ want _him to mean it._

“Well,” Loki prompted with exasperating merriment. “I’m waiting.”

“Well what can I say? You’re going to do what you want regardless.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “But if you pass out in that chair I swear I’m _leaving_ you out here to fend for yourself.”

He laughed. For several minutes. Like it was the funniest joke I could have made. This was not an aspect of his personality that I’d dealt with in the past year, so I was at a loss how to react. Little for me to do other than wait it out.

“You’d really let me freeze to death,” he queried in mock horror, his words mildly slurred.

“Peddle that line to someone else,” I scoffed in return. “We both know you wouldn’t freeze to death. Summer in Jotunheim is colder than it is out here.”

“Maybe so,” he conceded, though he wasn’t quite ready to give up altogether. “But not even the Jotun spend a whole night out of doors. Not even in summer.”

“All the more reason to listen to me and go to bed now, don’t you think?”

_Oh gods, what is_ that _look!?_

I didn’t know what I’d said, but Loki must have taken it to mean something I didn’t intend. His smile held more than just mischief; I refused to name the _other_ adjectives that came to mind to describe it. But I did think it wise to do something to redirect the conversation before the misunderstanding went any further. Only by the time I’d come to that thought, Loki had already risen- albeit somewhat unsteadily- from his chair. Should have done the same, but I didn’t move. Watching. Not quite sure what to expect.

Of any potential outcomes I could have imagined, I couldn’t have predicted what did happen next. Loki managed to take one step towards my chair. When he attempted to take a second, he lost his balance and collapsed to the flagstones with a surprised yelp. Alarmed, I sat up and peered over the arm of my chair to be sure he hadn’t done himself any serious harm.

“Gods’ mercy. Loki- you all right?”

“I think.” He thought for a moment and attempted to put himself somewhat to rights. Tried, anyway. “I think you might be right. It’s time to call it an evening.”

“Smart choice. Can you stand up on your own?”

Loooong pause.

“Doubtful.”

I sighed with thinly veiled exasperation, got up and circled around the chair. Loki, half-sprawled on the terrace, looked up at me. Sheepish bemusement hovered on his lips. Mine turned up at the corners in response, unable to suppress a good-natured smirk at seeing him in such a state. The infallible God of Mischief. Tripped over his own feet and fell on his ass. Before I erupted into a fit of giggles, I extended a hand to him. Loki took it in his own and between the two of us we managed to haul him to his feet. More or less.

“You going to be able to walk?”

“Was thinking to teleport.”

“No you’re _not_ ,” I retorted sharply.

He blinked at me in surprise and swayed a bit. “Why not?”

“You know as well as I do- or you _should_ \- that you don’t play with magic when you’re not in complete control of yourself. Especially with something like this. You try that now and there’s a good chance you’ll get lost between here and there. So we’ll try this again. Are you good to walk on your own?”

He shook his head, and then raised a hand to his temple. As if the motion had made him slightly dizzy for a moment. The brandy was really hitting hard now. If we didn’t get moving, Loki might really pass out before we made it to his room.

“All right, then. Arm around my shoulders and I’ll help you.”

* * *

A command Loki was more than happy to obey. With a clumsiness completely at odds with his nature, he draped his left arm along Lilith’s shoulders and leaned into her. She had little choice but to wrap her right arm around his waist to keep them balanced. Once steady, she sided him a glance.

“All set?”

“Mhmm.”

Lilith steered them clear of the chairs and set the pace to cross the terrace. Not too slow, but measured to compensate for his shuffling gait. Again, not the easiest to maintain when Loki was accustomed to moving with far more grace. He would be appalled if Thor or- gods help him- _Stark_ , were to see this spectacle. But he’d intentionally delayed long enough on the terrace that such an indignity wouldn’t be borne.

They reached the doors to the penthouse interior. Lilith grasped the handle with her free hand and pulled. The door didn’t budge, and the two of them almost crashed into the glass. She tried again. Nothing.

“Well, shit. We’re locked out here.”

“Icanfixit,” he insisted, patting his jacket in search of something to pick the lock.

“Huh uh. You touch that lock and it’ll set off Hel knows what alarm to wake everyone up.”

“Then what’s _your_ plan?”

“I’m thinking. Give me a second, will you?”

Lilith had no alternative to propose and they both knew it. Even if either of them had brought their phones out here, who would she call to help? Definitely not Victor. Maybe Romanoff. But again, that would require having the phone in the first place. Which she didn’t have. So they were stuck.

“Teleport. Is th’only way.”

“I don’t-”

“S’not a big deal. Jus’ one side to…to th’other. Be over before y’know it. Promise.”

She shot him a dubious look, clearly not thrilled with the idea. The slurred speech wasn’t helping to instill any confidence, either. But he could tell that she’d weighed the options and was resigned to take him at his word that he could do this.

“If we get stuck in the void in-between, I’ll never forgive you.”

“An’ what’ll you do if we _don’t_?”

She sighed.

“Thank the Norns and get you to your room like _I_ promised.”

Without so much as a word in reply, Loki made the jump; Lilith was whisked along for the ride. They reappeared almost instantly on the other side of the glass. If he thought she would thank him for successfully navigating that obstacle, Loki would have been mistaken. Lilith stared daggers at him, practically seething with the need to explode.

“What?”

“Not even a _warning_ first,” she hissed.

“Is fine. Like I said- not a big deal.”

Not a-” She bit back whatever else she was going to say. “Never mind. Let’s just get you where you belong.”

He was tempted to argue, just to see what she’d do. But he didn’t want anyone- Victor in particular- to come investigating who was making noise. So he allowed her to resume their meandering journey through the penthouse. Once or twice, he stumbled over his feet, causing him to throw her off-balance. Damn near knocked over an end table, but Lilith was able to rescue it at the last second. He wasn’t sure who was more relieved when they finally made it to his door without waking up the whole Tower. Lilith turned the knob and let the door swing open.

“All right,” she whispered quietly. “Here we are. I think you should be able to take it from here, so…”

“S’all the way over there, though.”

“What is?”

“The bed. S’over there.”

“ _Seriously?_ You could make it in four steps. Five, tops.” Loki just stared blankly at the distance until he heard her sigh. “Oh _fine_. I suppose it’d do no good to get you this far to have you crack open your skull now. In we go, then.”

They staggered across the room, where she released her grip on his waist and slid out from under his arm. Loki landed on the bedspread with a jarring thump as Lilith took a step back. She raked an assessing look over him before shaking her head.

“This has been an interesting night, I must admit. I’ll try to be up early enough to put the terrace back to rights, but you definitely ought to get some sleep. Probably wouldn’t hurt if you drank some water first, but-”

“Glass in the bathroom,” he informed her in a hopeful tone.

Lilith’s expression could only be described as incredulous. For a minute or two, he wasn’t sure she’d _actually_ go fetch it for him. But then she turned on her heel in the direction of the bathroom, muttering something intelligible under her breath. Likely directed at him. Loki heard the water in the tap run, and knew he didn’t have a whole lot of time before she’d be back.

_Time to make the seconds count._

Nimbly, he undid the row of buttons down his shirt front and shrugged out of it. He tossed the garment onto the trunk at the foot of the bed and pulled his undershirt over his head, discarding that as well. Loki’s fingers were poised over the top button of his slacks when Lilith must have walked back into the bedroom.

“ _What are you doing!?_ ” she gasped in shocked surprise.

“What’s it look like?”

Lilith didn’t answer, and so Loki tipped his head to angle a look in her direction. She stood utterly still in the doorway, holding the glass in one hand while the other had a death grip on the trim. Heat burned in her cheeks and even her earlobes had turned red. But the look in Lilith’s eyes told Loki exactly what he wanted to know.

“I, um…I-I should go,” she stammered as she sidestepped towards the hall. “You’re- I mean. I should go.”

“Lilith?”

“What?”

“The water.” Lilith froze in place, and he took advantage of the opportunity it presented. He crossed the room. Four steps, just like she’d said. They brought him to stand directly between her and the door to the hall as he reminded her, “You still have the glass in your hand.”

“Oh. Right.”

Loki extricated it from her grasp and set it atop the bureau next to them. Lilith, thinking his attention was diverted, tried to edge around him, avoiding eye contact. He wrapped his fingers around hers, preventing her from running away. When he didn’t let go, she glanced back over her shoulder. Not at him; at her hand.

“Loki- my hand…can I have it back?”

“No.”

Taken aback, she queried shakily, “What do you mean ‘no’? Loki, I really ought to be going.”

He circled around so that they were face to face. Lilith’s eyes skittered around the room, but Loki kept them standing there until she finally looked directly at him. With his right hand still twined with hers, he raised his left to rest against her temple, fingertips sifting into her hair.

“Don’t go,” he entreated her softly. “Stay. Stay here, my Lady.”

“I can’t. Loki…”

“Yes you can.”

He drew her closer to him. So close that if he leaned forward just a little, their lips would meet. Loki resisted the temptation to do it. Not yet. He couldn’t do that just yet.

“Eyes don’t lie, Lilith,” he told her. “And yours say you want to stay. So stay.”

“Not like this. Not when you’re-” her lashes swept down, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“What?”

“ _Drunk_. How can I stay when-”

Lilith must have finally realized where they were standing, and what it meant. Wheels turned in her mind and slowly her gaze came up to meet his again. By the time it had, she’d already pieced together what happened from the moment he’d arrived on the terrace. Loki was relieved to see more humor than anger in her expression. Humor and something else.

“You were sober this whole time, weren’t you?”

He smirked wickedly, leaned close, and then whispered against her lips, “Does that mean you’ll stay?”


End file.
